A/N: At the one point, the word you is written as --y-o-u--...strike-through doesn't work on this site, so just pretend it's crossed out.

Dear Hermione,
Harry wouldn't allow anyone else to come with us, although they all protested. Lupin claimed that he knew the area of Godric's Hollow very well, but you know Harry—he practically blew up when Lupin mentioned showing us around. "I have to do this by myself!" he yelled. "I'm barely willing to let Hermione and Ron come with me!"
I was aggravated, of course, and you cried a bit. Ginny wasn't talking to any of us; she was ready to kill someone. Tonks was really concerned, Mum was crying, and Dad looked really solemn. And Harry stormed out, bags in tow, and we had to follow him, because we're his best friends.
We're in Godric's Hollow now. Harry has had no luck finding his parents' house. Everyone he asks gives him this odd look, like, "Why would you want to go there?" And everyone who realizes that he's Harry Potter just sighs and shakes their heads. I think Harry wishes he had accepted Lupin's offer now.
We're staying in an inn, and we are all sharing a room because Harry doesn't want us to waste money. Harry gets the pull out couch in the living room, and sometimes I sleep there, too, but he tosses and turns like crazy anymore, and his scar is bothering him, so usually I rest in the arm chair, and don't get much sleep. You have the tiny bedroom to yourself, and sometimes I hear you crying, and peek my head in, but you're really asleep. Except for last night…last night you were still awake, and you admitted that you had only pretended to be asleep when I entered, and that you were having nightmares, about all sorts of things, except you had trouble remembering them or explaining them. You told me to get back to sleep, but I explained my predicament, and I thought that we had spent the whole night talking, but I woke up in the tiny little bed, and you were there, and we had just fallen asleep like that.
I got up, left you there, quickly kissed you on the forehead… watched you sleeping. You had a goofy little smile on your face. I guess you didn't have any more nightmares.
Ron

Hermione—
Today we went out to get some food with Harry and ran into Lupin on the way. Harry blew up. "Why did you follow us here? We're doing perfectly well on our own!"
Lupin snorted. "I didn't follow you here! I actually have a life, you know."
So, next thing we knew, we were in this small little shack, where the good professor actually lives, sipping tea and getting directions to the Potters' house.
I suppose it makes sense—Lupin was friends with Harry's parents, so perhaps they lived close to each other. He rushed us out at eleven, though. "Go get your food and visit the house, okay?"
I was really enjoying these muffins he had (he said someone gave them to him), so I whined, "Why?" You sort of wanted to stay, also, I think, because Harry was all moody about us coming with him. He had to see the house alone, which I guess I understand…sort of.
But Lupin wouldn't have any of it. "Just get going. I'm going to have company soon."
So we left. We trudged down the street (it's very eerie and rainy here, I've begun to notice) and kicked up mud and dust, and we found the house, all in shambles, and Harry went in alone, and we talked.
"Who do you think is going over Lupin's?" you asked. I just shrugged. "I think it's Tonks." But I don't know.
And we waited for hours and hours, it felt like, and Harry came out, and he looked sad…but no longer burdened. That mature, secure, depressed façade was gone, and it was just Harry, a teenage boy.
"Let's go. We have Horcruxes to find."
And off we went. We Apparated back to 12 Grimmauld Place, and Harry told everyone he was sorry for blowing up. We made awkward promises to everyone—that we'd be back when we could be, etc., etc. Mum says that we have to visit at least on the holidays, because she's still making us sweaters.
I just realized how much I love my family.
I just realized how much I love --y-o-u-- life.
Ron

Hermione…
I'm going crazy, I swear. Harry's insane, too; you're the only one with a bloody head on your shoulders. He gets one little hunch from Moody of some idea of where that stupid locket might be, and—boom, we don't even get to visit home for a day and we're here. Yes, we're traveling once more, and I have no clue where the bloody hell we are. You keep saying we're in Scotland but I've been to Scotland before and it wasn't like this.
Anyway, we're sleeping in caves, BLOODY CAVES! Last night was our first night in one. Harry was huddled all in a corner, and I woke up snuggling up against you, and we all smelled really bad, and my back hurt, and I was freaked out about spiders the whole time. But Harry's all like, "Oh, yes, well, Moody said it was in a cave."
Yeah, well, it wasn't in this one. Just mouse droppings, some bats, and a spider or two that Harry killed. Harry's going crazy, and I'm already sick of this.
We are taking a rest stop—it is noon according to my watch. We're eating something…I'm not quite sure what. You found it.
Well, Harry wants us to keep going and get this over with, so I must go. Bye.
Ron

Hermione Hermione Hermione Hermione Hermione…
BLOODY HELL!
So, Harry wanders out of the cave last night, you wake up and approach me, and go, "So what is that thing you're always writing?"
And what am I supposed to say? A journal? A diary? I would've looked like a poof. So I said, "Letters."
And you smiled, sat down next to me, made me sit up, and said, "To whom?"
And I said, "Sort of to myself, sort of not." Then I think I turned red, but it was dark, so you wouldn't know.
You asked me, "May I see them?"
So I said, "No."
And you pouted and said, "Fine."
But then I figured you could probably read one of them, maybe the first one, because it barely hinted that I had feelings for you, and the second one as well, and it didn't really matter, because we'd kissed a little. "Well, you can read some," I said.
I showed you them, and you read them, and you started to cry. I thought that they were embarrassing, or maybe I had said something mean in them that I didn't realize, or maybe you thought that you had led me on. I was about to say sorry, when all of the sudden you embraced me, and I sort of fell over, and said ouch because a particular jagged rock was now poking me in the spine.
"You're writing to me?"
My spine was really hurting now, so I pushed you up a little, moved over a few centimeters, and accommodated the new position before I realized what I was doing. "Well, sort of." I let out a sigh and was about to speak more when you continued.
"I don't want to read them all now," you giggled, "but maybe one day."
And your face was right on top of me and I wanted to kiss you but you playfully kissed my nose, so I kissed your chin, and I was really nervous, and next thing I knew, we were snogging.
After, I don't know how long, you said, "Ouch!" because I think you had rolled onto that rock or some other rock and we stopped and I said sorry but you said that it was your fault and next thing we knew we were busting up laughing.
Then Harry came back from whatever he was doing (getting a breath of fresh air, taking a piss, masturbating, whatever) and asked what was so funny, but we just shook our heads and went back to sleep.
So, um, it was a pretty good night.
Ron